I fell for Molly the second I saw her. She was beautiful—heartbroken and pregnant, abandoned by her ex. She cried on my shoulder, and I offered her love, stability, even marriage. I just wanted to be there.

But she hated being pregnant. When Amelia was born, Molly only complained. She missed her old life. Meanwhile, that little girl became my entire world.

For five years, I did it all. Then Molly said coldly, “I want a divorce. I’m over you and that little girl. I wish I never had her.”

A month later, she was back with Tanner—the guy who left her pregnant. While they partied, Amelia and I rebuilt our lives. Until Molly returned, demanding custody: “Tanner’s ready to be a dad. Hand over my daughter.”

Court terrified me. I knew the system favored mothers. But then Amelia, just five, stood up. “Your Honor, I want to stay with my daddy. He makes me breakfast. He’s my mommy and daddy.”

The judge listened. Despite protests, he ruled in my favor.

Outside the courtroom, Amelia wrapped her arms around me. Our life wouldn’t be easy—but we had each other. And that, in the end, was more than enough.